Life is a blur
by Rinko-Chwan
Summary: Wally wakes up not remembering anything. Kind of overlaps with Endgame but generally AU. Wally/Dick, don't like, don't read.


A/n: After so much time, I can't believe I've managed to pull off (somewhat) a one-shot. This overlaps a bit from Endgame but it's more AU-ish. Also, I didn't include a lot of the other characters in much detail (like Wally's actual parents because I don't know much about them to pull it off). Also, those in _Italics _are flashbacks.

Warning: Might be a tad OOC (It's been a looong time since I've written in narrative form rather than argumentative.) and there might be some plotholes here and there.

Pairing: Wally/Dick

Disclaimer: Young Justice, in no way, belongs to me. Because if it did, Endgame would have never happened :(

* * *

The world was a blur. There was noise. A static. Someone gripping his hand, something attached to his face. The world spun as he was lifted, the sky looked so open.

He couldn't remember. No details, no identity. The nurses at the hospital he had woken up in looked at him with unconcealed pity. He wanted to yell at them, rip the pillows open. But he didn't have the energy. It was weird; his body was no accustomed to having so little energy. Still unable to consume solid food, he felt weaker than normal yet day by day, a tiny bit of his energy returned.

Some days, as he listened to the steady beat of his heart upon the monitor next to his bed, he'd see flashes of scenes. His memories. He tried so hard to grip onto one of them but they always slip out. Always.

_I didn't want to die._

_-lly!_

Some days, he wondered if anyone would come and tell him who he was. It's been a month and he'd finally been able to sit up and remove the oxygen mask. He knew he'd been running on the charity of the hospital and as it became more apparently clear that he was not able to pay the hospital bill, he'd soon be kicked out.

"Your body seems… out of it," the doctor's gaze was locked onto the clipboard he held, "Severe exhaustion, your body was shutting down but everything is coming along nicely now. You should be up and running in a week."

He'd asked for a mirror the moment his voice could work. The nurse, a brunette with a kind smile, had obliged. A ghastly pale face peered back at him in the mirror. Bright red hair stuck in all directions, a tad longer than what he was used to, he could tell. Green eyes stared lifelessly back. It felt wrong. His hand twitched. All this inactiveness was bugging him but he didn't know why. He felt like standing, walking, _running_. A spark of life in those emeralds green flickered, seeming to mock him.

"Wally," the nurse looked up, surprised. "My name is Wally." The corner of his lips twitched. He finally remembered something.

With only his first name and a lot of charity from the hospital, he'd managed to get a job at a local café and an apartment. Slowly, he would earn back the money to pay back the hospital and those who helped him.

Life was slow and while it felt unsettling, he'd trudged on. After all, what does one do when one could not remember anything? He went for jogs every morning which always helped to lift his spirits but something still didn't feel right.

_Hi, I'm Wally, you know, Kid—_

_I know who you are, dude! The yellow costume is kind of hard to miss._

_Yeah well, that cape is hard to miss._

_Dude, that was so weak, so not feeling the aster._

_The what-? _

It's been 6 months since he left the hospital, 8 since he lost his memories. Apart from his name and some random flashbacks of conversations with no faces, he was truly at a lost. The psychiatrist the hospital had him see had told him that perhaps it was time to let go of the past and move on. But what if there was someone out there looking for him? His family or something? The psychiatrist, Dr. Lin, had merely looked at him sadly. 8 months was a long time with no one even attempting to find him. 4 more months, he'd insisted. 4 more months then he'd give up.

On the first anniversary of his new life, he'd finally given up. He'd stopped seeing Dr. Lin and honestly he was pretty content with his life. Sure he wasn't doing super well and he still hadn't cleared the debt he owed to the hospital but he had a roof over his head and a steady, though not well paid, job. He was content but he was not happy.

Mixing different concoctions of caffeine drinks made his body remember mixing something else. Not milk and coffee brew but chemicals. Names of chemicals were in his brain and he could even recite the entire periodic table. It was times like this that made him wonder who he used to be to remember such things.

Another two months later, he was promoted and asked to join a chain of the café at another city. "Perhaps you'll find better prospects there," the manager, a scrawny guy in his mid-thirties, had said. He'd gone back to the hospital to give them the news, promising to continue paying them back but the doctor who'd treated him had patted him on the back and said not to. A farewell gift, he'd explained. You've come a long way, Wally.

Thank you.

He left and he never looked back.

Central city was a bigger place than the town he'd woken up in. The place was full of high rise buildings and cars. They had state of the art labs here, his mind told him. His finger twitched, wanting to visit a lab but he couldn't fathom why.

Central city had a hero. The Flash, he'd hear people say. The Flash and his side—, no, his partner, Kid Flash. He'd hear people talk about them. In the café, out in the streets. For such a famous person, Wally had yet to see him. One month there and other than an occasional blur of red and a second blur of yellow in the far distance, he'd yet to actually see the Flash. Why it bothered him was something he didn't know. Sometimes he'd try to force his brain to come up with the answers he wanted so badly. But that only made his head hurt.

_I don't want to go back._

_B-but why—_

_Dick, please. After all we've been through? We could have lost our lives. This is no longer a hobby or anything. Our lives are at stake. There's no going back on death._

_I know, Wally. But you said it yourself, lives are at stake. Not only ours but innocent people. This was never a hobby. It's a duty._

_I—I'm sorry but I can't. I can't value their lives over yours._

_I understand but you should understand that death is not the final stop; you only truly die when you're not remembered. What we're doing, we could leave behind a legacy._

He'd woken up with a soaked shirt. Wincing at the throbbing pain in his temple, Wally wanted to laugh at the irony. Perhaps he truly was dead, if he himself could not remember who he was. Perhaps this person named Wally was dead and it was time to move on.

He was at the bank doing a withdrawal; he'd still donated back to the hospital in that town, when the robbery occurred. A gunshot pierced through the air, followed by screams. The armed robbers demanded them to crouch down as one of their accomplices locked all exits. As he bent down, Wally felt incredibly calm. He should be panicking but he wasn't. His heart sped up, bumping blood to his legs, adrenaline coursed through him. Why? God, why?

Of course, locked exits were merely a small hindrance to metahumans. The Flash was there is under a minute, red uniform so striking and reminding him so much of warm blood and cold ice. Kid Flash trailed behind as quickly, mob of brown hair and eyes covered by familiar goggles. So very familiar. Wally's head throbbed and he bent his head down, trying to lessen the pain. The robbers were caught quickly and the superheroes left just as quickly as the hostages were released. Wally stretched his legs, a bit numb from squatting so long. He felt a sudden urge to run, feel the wind in his face. Holding back to the urge, he continued his way home.

_I thought you said you were putting away the uniform for good._

_Oh, don't you dare start lecturing me on that. This is different. This is for family._

_I'm not going to lecture you, you idiot. Just be careful okay? You've been out of commission for 2 years already…_

_I know, Missy reminds me of that all the time._

_Are you two still—_

_No, it's a clean break but we're still friends._

_I see…_

_What, are you whelmed?_

_Pftt, I knew all along she was going to dump your hyperactive ass._

_Ouch now wonder boy, I'd let you know I have a very fine ass here._

He'd entered the café as usual, the morning air cold and crisp. He and his co-worker, Mark, had barely just flipped the open sign around when the first customer strode in. He was of average height, around 20 years of age and had pitch black hair. Wally didn't get a really good view as he crouched behind the counter to take out the bag of coffee beans. The dude wore sunglasses, he could tell. Talk about suspicious. As he made his order, voice low and just the way girls would swoon over, Wally felt his heart stop for a second. That… sounded nearly like the voice in his dreams. A tad lower but still similar. Mark had whipped up his drink and he was out of the door before Wally could get a good look. Perhaps it was just a mistake. It was still too early for his brain to be functioning properly.

The next day, he'd been the one to lock down the café at 10 in the night. Hugging his jacket closer around himself, he began the lonely road home. Upon turning a corner, he'd walked right into a scene of a group of gangsters attempting to rob a middle-aged lady. His heart sped up, not from his unlucky timing but something else. Almost like that time in the bank, like he was anticipating something.

"Shit," one of the gangsters cursed upon seeing him, "let's get him too," another suggested. The rest gave a chorus of agreement and two made their way towards him.

"You hooligans!" The woman shouted shrilly, "I'm going to call the—AH!"

One of the gangsters had roughly shoved her, tugging onto the purse which she had a death grip on.

"If you don't want to get hurt…" the gangster approaching him said slowly, tauntingly. Wally frowned. The moment a hand was laid on him, Wally had lapsed into his muscle memory, not thinking but simply _acting_. He'd hit the hand away from him with surprising speed, ducking when the other gangster threw a fist at him. It was like everything was in slow motion. He easily slipped out of their attack, counteracting and even fighting back. In what seemed like just seconds, most of the gangsters were writhing on the floor. The ones who held on to the woman looked at him like he was crazy before tearing down the street.

Wally knelt in front of the lady, "are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine. Young man how did you—." She looked truly shocked for some reason.

Looking at his confused face, she continued, "Young man, you were so fast. Almost like… almost like the Flash. A-are you—?"

"N-no," Wally felt bile rise in his throat. Fast like the flash? Fastest teen ali—. His head hurt. "I-I'm not the flash, it must have been adrenaline. It must have."

The women nodded slowly, sensing his distress, "y-you're right, must have been the adrenaline…"

Wally nodded stiffly before running away. Why did it feel so right yet wrong at the same time? He frustratingly ran a hand through his hair, why couldn't he remember?

He'd been shopping at the supermarket one day when he'd bumped into another person. The lady, who looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, had a familiar shade of red hair and light green eyes.

"Oh I'm so sorry," he'd picked up the fallen diapers from her trolley. Her trolley was overfilling with food items and baby necessities. She stood shell-shocked, eyes widened.

"Erm," he said uncomfortably in the silence, "I'll just… go now…" He'd steered around the woman when she suddenly grabbed him.

"I'm sorry," she said, a certain kind of sadness filling her face that made Wally feel horrible. "It's just that you look like someone… I know."

Someone she knew that made her feel sad? Either a lover or a family member that had either left or… died. Dead. Death. Wally swallowed thickly, "I'm really sorry?"

"It's okay, it's really my fault, couldn't see over the top of all this stuff," she'd smiled, still looking a little sad.

"Do you need help carrying all this stuff?" Wally heard himself asking before he could process it.

"Its fine, my husband is picking me up," her voice turned slightly affectionate, "it was… nice to meet you."

Wally nodded awkwardly before they went on their separate ways. When he walked by the parking lot later, he could hear distantly the same lady saying, "Barry, you'd never believe what I just saw…"

_I'm going._

_What?! Dude, you were the one who said you're not coming back. You're the one who spent hours ranting about the value of life. We can handle it, Kid. _

_No you can't handle it. You guys need me. Perhaps I'm finally listening to what you told me before. About the value of the lives of many innocent people._

_I never meant it this way, with—with death an actual probability._

_Probability is just a number. This is a duty, remember? Our lives have always been on the line._

_A probability of 80%, I'm sorry but I can't risk it. I can't risk you._

_Between little old me and the whole world?_

_You might not understand this but you're just as important._

_No, I'm really not._

A sense of melancholy overwhelmed him. Once in a while, he'd be hit by an overwhelming sensation of missing something so terribly hard. For a while, he'd contemplated seeing another psychiatrist again but a part of him knew that it was not something a psychiatrist could fix.

The second anniversary was fast approaching and it was the first one he'll spend in Central city. For some unknown reason, the city was really growing on him and felt almost like… home. It was around this time that news of a ceremony came around.

"Like a memorial service really," Mark said during one of their breaks, "have it every year since two years ago. To commemorate the fallen hero who'd saved the Earth."

"Hero?"

"Yeah, surely you know?" Wally shook his head.

"The hero had even originated from here! The first Kid Flash," Mark said, "here at Central City, we take it really seriously."

"Are you going for this… service?" An unsettling feeling bubbled in Wally's stomach. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Probably, if Anna allows us to close down early."

"Can I… go with you?"

"Sure, no problem. You're quite new here aren't you?"

Wally had pushed this event that felt so wrong to him at the back of his mind until the actual day itself. It was a day before his personal anniversary of being found with no memories. Anna, their manager, had allowed them to close at 4pm to go to the celebration. Even though Mark had said it was some sort of memorial service, it was nearly like a carnival. Celebrating their hero, their fallen hero.

"The Flash will be here and some of the League people will actually come down too."

"The… League?"

"Dude, I know you don't come from here but surely you've heard of the League?"

"You mean the Justice League?"

"Yeah and that new team… Young Justice was it? They came last year. Don't know if they'd show up again or not."

While Mark continued talking, Wally took in the sight around him. It was near the park, a place Wally realised he'd never really went to. Usually, he'd jog around the city area rather than the park. After all, the park was on the opposite side of the city from his workplace and apartment. A monument sat in the public area. _In dedication to the first Kid Flash_.

His gut twisted feeling uncomfortable and wrong. It was a feeling his had lately. A group of young adults, barely out of their teens, caught his attention. They had a familiar yet solemn air to them. A teen with a really muscular build, tight black shirt and jeans frowned slightly as he listened to the girl next to him. The girl had short red hair and stood close to the teen. An older looking dark skinned man walked behind them with a blonde haired girl. They felt…

"Dude, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah sure," Wally said instantly, "you were saying about Anna…?"

"Yeah, she'd be a cute chick if she'd just ditch the round spectacles…"

"What time did you say the ceremony starts?"

Mark glanced at his watch, "in about half an hour. Anyway and if she'd just change…"

Wally tuned him out with ease again as they manoeuvred through a thickening crowd. Mark certainly was not joking when he said how serious the city was about this. He'd bumped into someone, stopping for just 2 seconds which was apparently enough for Mark to disappear in the sea of heads. The doofus probably didn't even realise Wally was no longer there.

"I'm really sorry," he turned to the person he'd bumped into. A young man of nearly the same height, give or take an inch, and inky black hair stood in front of him. He looked vaguely familiar, dark glasses covering his eyes.

"You…"

Wally raised an eyebrow, not expecting a hot looking guy who looked like he should be brimming with confidence to be tongue tied.

"I'm sorry, really," Wally repeated, making a move to walk away. He was stopped (he felt a certain sense of déjà vu here, getting stopped after already apologising.). "You look like someone I used to know," the voice sounded pained and Wally's heart took a dip.

He laughed awkwardly, "Funny, you're not the first person to say that." That lady in the supermarket suddenly came to his mind. What a coincidence it would be if they were referring to the same person. Wally wasn't sure he wanted to remind people of separate people who were probably dead or something.

"I'm… not?"

Wally shrugged.

"Well, I'm sorry for bumping into you as well, are you here with someone?"

"I was but he's… gone. Somewhere." Wally squinted, yep; Mark was out of sight and zone.

"Then the least I can do is accompany you," they guy's mouth twitched into a slight smile. Wally nearly backtracked, was he flirting with him?

"The name's Richard."

"Wally." Richard choked, earning a slight frown from Wally. Was there something wrong?

"So… Wally, you from around here?" He looked slightly uneasy using his name which made Wally feel like there was something he was missing. He just… couldn't remember.

"Nope, I'm from Ranch Green town in the east," he replied, that was, after all, where his new life began.

"Oh," he looked disappointed; Wally's mind told him even though on the outside, Richard's entire demeanour had not changed. How had he known?

"Are you?" Wally asked, breaking the little tension that had been building up for some reason, as they made their way through the crowd.

"Nope, I'm from Gotham." Gotham City rang a bell in Wally's head. Dark, oh so dark and a knight stood at the very top.

"Are you here just for this ceremony?"

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate and Wally didn't ask. Soon enough, the ceremony began and the mayor stood at a pedestal, addressing the crowd. Next to him stood several superheroes, the Flash, Kid Flash, Superboy, Miss Martian… How had he known all of them?

"We are here today to commemorate a hero. A hero who had died in order to…" Wally tuned out the speech, glancing at Richard to realise that he was being stared at.

"What? Is there something on my face? Dudedon'tjuststareatmelikethat," The words rolled out of his mouth with ease.

Richard gave a short laugh, a bit broken and Wally wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Like he understood when he really didn't.

"You really remind me of someone," Richard said, voice sounding distant, "what did you say was your last name?"

"I didn't. Under records I've placed my last name as Parker but I don't think it's my real name."

"What do you mean?"

"I… I have amnesia," Wally swallowed the lump in his throat, "I don't have any memories since two years ago."

He could just _feel _Richard's eyes widen. Talk about uncomfortable, Wally internally winced. Bringing up that he couldn't remember was not a good conversation starter. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Mark.

"Ah, I see my friend, best be going now," he quickly took the exit route, "it was nice to meet you—."

"Wait; is there a way to… contact you?"

"Erm, I work at the Starburst café on the third avenue, you could drop by if you need to find me." One last nod and he hurried back to Mark.

_No, you're the world to me._

The next day, he'd woken up with yet another headache, the emptiness pulsing in him. Perhaps he should just take a sick leave for the day, he mused in bed. But there wasn't anything else for him to do so he changed into his jogging gear and got ready for his usual run before heading to the café.

It was around noon when a blonde haired male entered with the lady who'd bumped into him in the supermarket (the memory of her never seemed to leave his mind, Wally realised.). It was a relatively slow Wednesday afternoon so only he was around to tend to the small stream of customers. Kylie, another co-worker, was out at the back taking her break.

"Welcome to Starburst café," Wally said professionally, highly doubting the lady would remember him, "what would you like to order?"

The man gave a rough choking sound; the lady patted his back in a comforting manner. She turned to look at him, "Hi, I don't know if you remember us but I bumped into you at the—."

"Supermarket, yeah I remember."

She smiled, seemingly pleased, "I never got the chance to introduce myself, I'm Iris Allen and that's my husband Barry." Wally felt at ease, feeling surprisingly comfortable with two people he hardly knew. With no other customers currently in the queue, he obliged her cue to introduce himself.

"I'm Wally," he said. Her eyes moistened and for a moment, Wally panicked that he'd said the wrong thing. The blonde man—Barry, looked at him oddly.

They made their order and went to sit by the window as Wally made their order. From the distance, he could only catch snatches of their conversation.

"His just like what Dick said—."

"Do you think it's possible that—."

"—doing more research on his end—."

"Here's your order," Wally approached them, effectively stopping their conversation. The pair began to frequent the café after that day and just by a little, Wally felt like the emptiness had been filled.

Two weeks later, two teens entered the café. One with a messy mop of brown hair and bright green eyes, the other with short cropped black hair and a pair of sunglasses. What was with young people these days and sunglasses?

This time, Mark was behind the counter as Wally cleaned the coffee machine that had been sputtering coffee all over the place since morning. The morning crowd had dispersed, leaving a relatively quiet late morning for them to deal with.

"Hi, I'dliketoorderonetallcupofcaramelchocolatemacchiat owithextrawhipcream," the brown haired teen said excitedly. Mark blinked owlishly, "what?"

"He said he'll like a cup of caramel chocolate macchiato with extra whip cream," Wally said from where he stood, "but I'd hold the whip cream if I were you." The kid looked sugar high already, no need to add on to that.

"Oh you actually understood that?" The teen was practically vibrating on the spot, making Wally smile, "that is so crash. DidyouseethatTim? MaybewhatDicksaidwasreallytrue!"

His friend—Tim, smiled slightly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him from vibrating a hole in the ground. "I'd like a cup of normal coffee, black."

Mark blinked for a second before shrugging to whip up their order. The two huddled at the side of the counter, stealing glances at Wally when they thought he wasn't aware. But he was aware. Very. It was unnerving.

"Look kids—"

"I'mnotakid!"

"Look, do you know me or something? You've been glancing over for the past two minutes," Wally gave a pointed look; Mark was slow at making their order due to the not really functioning coffee machine.

"You just look like someone we know," Tim intercepted before the brown haired teen could say anything.

"I get that a lot," lately, that seemed like a phrase people kept saying to him. First Iris, then Richard then these two teens that he was pretty sure he didn't know yet felt strangely familiar.

Before any of them could say anything else, Mark had returned with their order and the two left.

_Remember when you said that there's an 80% chance of death?_

_Wally what are you—no. NO, don't you dare—!_

_I'm sorry but it has to be done._

_No, it doesn't. Please…_

_Hey, don't cry on me okay? It's going to be fine._

_It's not; this is going to be a disaster, heavy on the dis._

_Haha dude._

_I'm not joking, you can't leave._

_I left once and I came back._

_This is different, there's no going back from death._

_I said that once but I'm leaving behind a legacy here aren't I? I'm going to live forever._

_No—_

_We'll meet again one day, I'm sure._

_Wally—_

_Thank you for everything._

_Please don't leave._

_This is farewell for now, boy wonder._

_Please don't leave me._

It was a month later when Iris entered, Barry nowhere in sight, pushing a stroller with baby twins. "That's Don and that's Dawn," she'd introduced them to Wally, "say hi to Wally," the babies gurgled, giggling and cheerful.

Wally bent down to take a closer look, "Hi there," he turned to Iris, "they're adorable."

"Thank you."

It had been bugging him for a long time now so after bringing Iris her order of a breakfast plate and tea, Wally took his break.

"I was wondering, could I ask you something?" Iris looked up from wiping one of the twin's mouth, eyes widened slightly.

"Sure, sit down."

Taking a deep breath in, Wally sputtered, "doyouknowme?"

Without waiting for her to respond, he barrelled on, "becauseyoufeelreallyfamiliarbutIdon'tknowbecauseI haveamnesiaandIcan'trememberbutIreallywantto—."

"Wally, calm down," Iris laid one free hand on his shoulder, "take a deep breath and ask again."

"O-okay," he regulated his breathing, "Do you know me? You feel really familiar but I don't remember anything because I have amnesia. If you knew me, why didn't you say anything?"

Iris placed the napkin on the table, eyes looking downcast. A stab of guilt made Wally feel awful but he had to know. He just had to.

"I'm sorry but I can't give you a concrete answer now. I'd like to think that I know you but there's always a chance that you're not who I think you are."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Two years ago, my nephew died, Wally," anguish laced her voice as she continued; "we had every reason to believe that he died even though no body was left. You—you look like him and you even have the same first name."

"What… What was his name?"

"Wally West."

It felt like a wall had been broken. A wall he didn't even know existed, that had come crashing down on him. The world spun, blurring his vision as white hot pain seared his mind.

"Wally!" He could distantly hear Iris's shout of concern.

"A-aunt Iris…" his world turned black.

He'd woken up in the hospital, yet another oxygen mask attached to his face. He could hear a beeping heart machine next to him, the room looked considerably better than the hospital at that town. Distantly, he could hear voices near the door but he couldn't make out the words.

The door open, revealing Richard whom he had not seen since that ceremony. Iris and Barry followed after. Had they known each other?

"He's awake," Richard's voice was soft and low, breaking the quietness of the hospital room, "I'll go get the doc—."

"It's okay, we'll get the doctor," Barry squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner and he and Iris left the room.

Richard sat in the uncomfortable looking plastic chair next to his bed. He reached up, tugging off the sunglasses, revealing tired blue eyes that made Wally's heart clench tightly.

"Hey hey, it's okay," Richard placed a hand on his forearm, noting the speeding of his heartbeat on the machine.

"D-do you remember anything? Blink once for yes and twice for no."

He blinked thrice.

"Dude what does that even— oh you remember some things but don't… understand them?"

He blinked once.

"That's good," Richard's face scrunched in worry. They lapsed into silence before the door burst open and a doctor entered to check on Wally.

Later that day, the oxygen mask was removed and he was moved to another ward. Iris peeled an apple for him, settling it in front of him before Barry spoke.

"We did a DNA testing," he said slowly, as if checking for any negative response, "it's a match. You're—you're Wally West."

"I'm… Wally West," the name sat well with him, a certain sense of calm fell over him. It felt right.

"What happened to me that made you all think that I was d-dead?"

"That's a story for Dick to tell."

A familiar name, the one in the snatches of memories he had.

_I lo—_

"Dick?"

"That's my nickname," Richard said as he entered the room, having left earlier for some reason unknown to Wally.

Richard—no, Dick now, walked up to him uncomfortably. Barry and Iris stood, leaving to give them some privacy.

"So what happened?" Wally asked softly, it felt like a forbidden area to tread in.

"Life happened," Dick said teasingly.

"Dude, that's so not cool, I'm already overwhelmed here."

"He he, whelmed…"

Demeanour changing more serious, Dick sat down, lacing his hands in front of him, "to understand what happened, there's something you should know first."

Wally kept silent, urging him to continue.

"You weren't a normal person, Wally. You were the first Kid Flash."

"W-what? Dude is that some kind of sick joke? The first Kid Flash _died _saving the world. That's what everyone said. I-I'm sitting right here, _alive_."

He'd always felt that it was wrong that the first Kid Flash was dead but he? A superhero?

"I'm not lying," blue eyes bored into green, "you're the first Kid Flash whom everyone _thought _died saving the world. Wally, y-you disintegrated, not even a body was left behind, and you were just — gone."

"But I'm here now, what does this mean?"

"You could take it as the beginning, whatever you choose to do now, Iris and Barry supports you, the team supports you, and I support you."

Letting instincts take over, Wally lifted both his arms. Shuffling awkwardly in his seat for just a few seconds, Dick finally leaned forward to accept the hug. It was like a door had opened, Wally was suddenly engulfed in the tightest hug he could remember (which wasn't much, really).

"I'm sorry for everything you went through," he whispered into dark hair. For a fraction of a second, the hands around him tightened even more, if that was even possible.

"It's fine but dude, don't you dare do something like that ever again," it was meant to sound more teasing but came out a little broken. Wally understood. He finally understood.

_I may never get a chance to say this again but I—I love you, I always have._

_But you're going anyway._

_I have to._

_I love you too—._

His head pounded, Dick released his grip on him and stood up, clearly distraught.

"We weren't just normal friends… were we?"

"No, we were best friends," his voice was soft, Wally could barely hear over the pain.

"We weren't just best friends either."

Dick remained silent for a moment, "does it matter? You don't remember."

"No," Wally closed his eyes, "but I feel like my heart remembers."

_What the mind forgets, the heart and body will always remember._

A part of him had always known the truth, Wally realised. A certain calm had engulfed him and everyone, especially himself, was surprised by how well he had accepted things. Slowly, the emptiness was being filled. When he closed his eyes, he could nearly affirm himself. For all that was lost, he was—_is _Wally West, the first Kid Flash. The event that had resulted in his near death was brought out again to investigate in greater detail on how he had survived and how he'd ended up miles away in Ranch Green town. It would take time but for now, he was satisfied.

Three days later, he was released. It took another week and tentative planning for him to move back to the room he apparently had at the Allen estate. The family was welcoming, showing him past albums and even his old uniform. He couldn't return to being Kid Flash, he knew. His cousin—Bart Allen, already held that mantle.

"Icouldtotallyreturnittoyou,youknow?" The hyperactive teen had said, "No biggie."

"Its fine," Wally had replied, "you-you look good in yellow."

Bart had smiled blindingly, as if an unspoken need for approval was needed. He deserved to be the new Kid Flash. After all, it would be a while before Wally would even consider going back to the superhero business.

He'd have to train with Uncle Barry (who was the Flash, now who would have thought of that?) to get used to the speed he apparently had all along but locked away along with his memories.

He'd met the team even; Megan had engulfed him in a tight hug (though not as tight as the one in the hospital), pushing trays of slightly burnt cookies. Connor had remained silent but had given him a small smile. Kaldur had given him a pat on the back and even more new, unfamiliar faces had tentatively greeted him. Artemis had slapped him, for forgetting. He'd let her even though with his new found speed, he could have easily dodged.

All that was left was Nightwing now. When he'd looked up to face the familiar mask, he'd smiled.

"Hi."

"Hey."

He might not remember everything yet and it was possible he might not remember everything at all but his heart was at the right place. He was sure of it.

"I did say we'll meet again." He could totally feel blue eyes widening behind the mask.

"You did, you dork."

"Well…?"

"Welcome home Wally," A kiss.

"I'm home."

* * *

A/n: And it's over! Done! Thank you for reading till the end and enduring my awkward writing and OOC-ness, feel free to leave a review :) Oh and I'm pretty sure I kind of ripped off Tsubasa Chronicles about the body and heart remembering even when the mind doesn't part so another disclaimer: I don't own Tsubasa Chronicles.


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